


Grains of Time

by hlravensnest_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Raven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-31
Updated: 2001-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-16 21:50:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11837733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlravensnest_archivist/pseuds/hlravensnest_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atHL Raven's Nest. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onHL Raven's Nest's collection profile.





	Grains of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HL Raven's Nest](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HL_Raven%27s_Nest). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HL Raven's Nest's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hlravensnest/profile).

Grains of Time by Camilla Sandman

| 

_Grains of Time_

by   
Camilla Sandman 

**Acknowledgements:** I’ve used a whole library of quotes and lyrics. The wise men and women I have used are as follows. For quotes: Elias Canetti, Arnulf Øverland, George Eliot, Soflokes, Betrand Besigye, William Shakespeare  & Stig Johansson. 

The poem quoted by Lauren’s mom is a part from _Ulysses_ by Tennyson. 

The lyrics used are Our Lady Pace, "Lying Awake" from the album "Happiness", Heather Nova; "London Rain" from the album "Siren", Halvtan Sivertsen; a song I cannot remember the name of, from the album "Light All Night", Finger Eleven; "For the Ocean" from the album "The Greyest of Blue Skies". 

“A strange lullaby it is, For it is my own” is inspired by the movie The Piano, where the main character makes a similar observation at the end. 

**Disclaimer:** Lauren and Henry, Jonas and Erik are my creations, but the wonderful characters of Nick, Amanda, Rachel, Frank, Jack and Helen are all borrowed. Not for profit, mind you, and if the creators of _Highlander: The Raven_ , or _Water Rats_ wish to sue me, I doubt they’ll get anything valuable. And since they don’t take properly care of the characters anyway, I’m more than willing to take them into my care. 

**Author’s Note:** Don’t ask me where the idea to mix Water Rats and HL:TR came from....I have no friggin clue! I had been suffering from a dreadful flu for 3 weeks, and this story is pretty much written in a fever haze. So any complaints about this story can be addressed to “Nasty flu virus, permanent residence Camilla’s body, nowhereville, a friggin cold country.” 

Due to the rather heavy mythology of Highlander, I’ve picked elements from it I found interesting, and ignored the rest. Author’s privilege. If you’re new to either show, I recommend reading [the mini-guide](http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Station/6996/grainsguide.html) I created. 

Thanks to Nikki for a little nagging, and to Amanda for bothering to be test subject. 

Lastly, I owe a huge THANKS! To Rach W. for patiently helping me with this story, encouraging me on the way, and listening to endless Explainations about a show she’d never watched.   
See you in Brisbane! 

* * *

**Prologue**

_~~~~~~~~  
All you have forgotten, screams for help in your dreams   
~~~~~~~~_

Rachel Goldstein awoke with a start, barely withholding a cry of pain. It hurt, it hurt so very much. The pain scourged through her, but it was only an echo of the real pain. She wasn’t in a dark warehouse, her life bleeding away. She was on a boat, on the open sea, sleeping next to a man she thought she’d never see again. 

The Footloose was rocking gently as the waves hit against its side. Although not a very big boat, it didn’t feel crowded. She spent most of the time on deck anyway, watching sunsets and sunrises and endless amounts of water. While thinking her decision over and over, wondering if she’d done the right thing. Jack’s word echoed in her mind still. 

But the words were dead. _She_ was dead. 

Frank let out a sigh in his sleep, rolling away from her. She watched his back, noting scars and the fresh bruise from the other day when they had been diving. Her bruises had already healed. She’d hid it from Frank, along with almost everything else. All but the fact that she’d come to stay. Forever, at least forever for him. Forever for her could be so long she didn’t even dare consider it. 

He still seemed deliriously happy about it, asking no questions. He’d gently probed her, but knew her well enough to not push. And questions were easily silenced by a simple kiss. 

She lay down next to him, feeling his warm skin against hers. A small part of her brain whispered about Jack, but she silenced it as Frank’s arms encircled her warmly. 

Rachel Goldstein was dead. She had been stabbed, and had died in Jack‘s arms. There was no going back. Never again would she hear David call her “mum”, or see Helen smile up at her after solving a hard case. 

No. They were the things she had to put behind her, the things that had died with her body. Rachel Goldstein was dead. 

What remained, she wasn’t quite sure. 

* * *

Nick Wolfe awoke with a start. It took him a few seconds to realise hat had woken him, and then the full force of a Presence threatened to make his head explode. Amanda had called it a gift. He called it a bloody curse. As he had learned since dying, and waking up as an Immortal, he could always sense other Immortals when they were near. This one was very close, practically on top of him. He cursed loudly, reaching for the only defence he had brought. A gun. In his refusal to accept his new fate, he hadn’t even considered getting a sword. 

He wasn’t a part of the game. Their stupid, wrenched game. He’d cursed it often enough when Amanda went out to face an Immortal, and only one would come back. He remembered how grateful he’d been every time it was her who came back. Their deadly game. 

He wasn’t part of it! 

He’d spent the last four weeks denying it, trying to run from it, and here it came slamming into him. The “gift” of Amanda. To live forever, until someone literally took his head off. Which could very well happen just now. 

He got on his feet quickly and quietly, staring intently into the darkness. The only light was the dim starlight from the window and the city lights of London. He could barely make out the door, the open door that had been closed when he’d fallen asleep. 

Confused thoughts ran through his head at the same time as the Presence filled his head and the gunshot smashed into him from the side. He span around, seeing but a brief shadow by his side as he fell. The floor greeted him hard, and as the presence dissipated, pain grew. He heard a faint scream, probably one of the other guests at the cheap bed and breakfast. The wound was burning, as his vision grew blurry. 

He was going to die, he realised. 

He thought of Amanda thought of her smile, her laughter, her wink and the tears on her face as he’d thrown harsh words at her. 

He thought of Amanda and both cursed and missed her at once. 

Then he died. 

* * *

**Chapter One**

_~~~~~~~~_   
I'm here to wear you out   
I'm here to watch you hide   
Nothing to figure out   
I'm here to watch you die   
~~~~~~~~ 

The sun rose over London, but it seemed pale and lifeless. The winter still had its grip on the city, refusing to let ago a minute too soon. But a hint of green on the ground hinted that the cold grasp of winter would be broken. 

Cars were beginning to rouse, coughing and spitting in the cold, but obediently powering up and filling up the streets. A few honks could be heard here and there, faint shouts, but it all seemed so distant. 

She missed the sound of the ocean more than anything. Waves crashing against the beach, birds circling over her. She’d like to scream with them, just for an afternoon. She’d tried telling her father, but he’d only looked sad and patted her hair. He seemed to do that more and more these days, as the doctors again and again told him what she’d known the second she had coughed up blood. 

She was dying. 

He refused to see it, instead talking about medical science and miracles, and lately, living forever. She let him talk, waiting for all excuses to have been used. Maybe he would cry then, she wanted him desperately to cry. Not one tear had he shed yet. Instead he would sit by her side whispering her name over and over, as if trying not to forget it. 

“Lauren...” It didn’t feel like her name anymore. 

She barely felt the faint tickle of a needle bringing new medicines into her already battle worn body. Her mind was far away, running on a beach with her mother. 

Her father got up, leaving her bedside to look out at the waking city. It gave him no pleasure anymore to see life start anew. It only mocked him, mocked her. 

But somewhere out there... was the power to life forever. 

There could only be one decision. 

**Paris**

Amanda turned in bed for the hundredth time that morning. The fainting moon was shining down at her and she found herself wondering if Nick was looking at that very same moon. Four weeks, and not a sound. She wanted to hate him for it, but the urge to just hold him and kiss him senseless until he had to forgive her, was just too great. 

The bed was warm. She threw the sheets off impatiently, but it didn’t seem to help. Her body was burning. Pushing herself up, she walked over to the window and opened it. The wind caressed her smooth skin, her silk gown and her short blonde hair, but instantly turned cold. Even in Paris, it was winter. Impatiently, she shut the window again. Maybe she should let her real hair colour grow back again, she pondered. Change, she wanted something to change, anything. 

Anything but lying in bed, tossing and turning and worrying. 

The phone rang. 

It was a shrill sound; she almost shuddered at it as she reached for the phone. 

“Yes?” Her own voice sounded strangely unfamiliar to her. 

“He’s in London,” a male voice informed her. 

“Who?” she asked, but instantly knew. “Nick?” 

“Yes,” came the quiet reply and then the click telling her the caller had hung up. 

She stood with the phone in her hand for an eternity, her mind racing over her choices. A faint laughter reached her through the window, and she realised she’d taken the choice a long time ago. 

Ten minutes later she’d booked a seat on the next plane to London. 

**London**

Nick had woken with a start. His head was pounding, and he had found himself in a car in a body bag. He’d quickly got out, making as little sound as possible. He didn’t particularly want to explain his resurrection to the local police. A sudden flashback to Amanda doing it to him hit, and he smiled bitterly. So this was what it felt like. 

He’d slipped away quietly, and now he was pondering his options. The police would be looking for a body, not a living man, but he didn’t wan to risk being seen by any officers who might have been on the scene of his death. Best to avoid the police for now 

But he couldn’t leave London. Not yet. His killer puzzled him. If it had been the Immortal who’s presence he had felt, why did he still have his head? Why had he only been shot? Strange. It didn’t make sense. Unless... 

He reached into his pocket, and indeed, there was a small note there. 

“Trafalgar Square. 8 a.m. Wednesday.” It wasn’t signed. 

Games. The Immortals and their games. He cursed loudly. He should have known better than to think he could escape them. He needed help. From someone he could trust. Someone from before he’d met Amanda and his world had changed. 

It felt so long ago, so distant, even though it was hardly a year ago everything had been so very different. Only a year ago... 

**Sydney morgue, a year ago**

With a sharp intake of breath, Rachel Goldstein awoke. As she slowly exhaled, she felt the coldness of steel against her back. She was cold, so very cold. Lifting her head, she immediately realised she was in a morgue. 

And then the full force of memories slammed into her. 

_I love you._   
Frank... Is it Frank?   
Sharp pain. She was dying; she was dead.   
Darkness. 

She stared with disbelief at her abdomen, which showed no signs of being stabbed. But she had been. She had been dead. 

Pushing herself up, she put her feet on the cold floor. Her thoughts were a mess of contradicting feelings, but she did know one thing. 

She couldn’t stay there. 

An hour later a Watcher had replaced her body in the morgue and as far as the world was considered, Rachel Goldstein was dead. 

**Somewhere in the Pacific, present day**

Birds were flying over the Footloose, as Frank let the anchor drop. It was a quiet day, as had yesterday been, and the day before that, and the day before that... He was beginning to wonder if all the relaxing was getting to him. Of course, there were upsides. 

Rachel Goldstein in a bikini, for once. He grinned at the memory, storing it in “Not To Be Forgotten” in his mind. They’d be in port tomorrow. Maybe he could... 

He was torn from his thoughts by a speedboat coming at them. Some damn American tourists, probably. 

Rachel heard the boat approach too, but didn’t acknowledge it at first. She felt warm, comfortable, and almost happy just sitting there in the sun. Then suddenly something slammed into her head with the force of a locomotive. Her ears ringing, she looked up, right into the eyes of someone she had not seen since that fateful night a year ago. 

Jonas Sanderson. 

He smiled at her as the boat slowed down, going to an all-stop beside Footloose. 

“Hello, Rachel,” he said, not unpleasantly, but all she could hear were her walls crashing down at her feet. 

**London**

Walls. Nick had a feeling it was all he kept finding. More walls to bump into and knock his head against. This last death had the worst timing. It didn’t make any sense to him, least of all this mysterious note that had been left for him. He considered for a moment retreating to Holy Ground and waiting it out, but quickly decided against it. Better to face it head on. 

Turning the corner, he headed for the first pay phone and didn’t notice Amanda just walking out of view into the next street. 

Henry did. Carefully following Nick this morning, he’d almost hoped they would have bumped into each other then and there, but there was always Wednesday. He knew the importance of patience. Years of watching had taught him that. 

Catching up with Amanda, he slipped a note in her pocket as he passed, then hurried into the subway crowd. He felt her eyes follow him, but she didn’t. She knew what he was, or rather, had been. A Watcher. 

No more. He had sold out. Their lives for Lauren’s. At least he was giving Nick a chance; he defended himself with, sending another Immortal to teach him. 

He was still selling them. 

Clutching his daughter’s picture in his pocket, he forced himself to think of it as buying time. That was all it was. Buying time. The little voice inside him who kept calling him a murderer, he ignored. 

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_~~~~~~~~  
Pain is not an evil until it overcomes us   
~~~~~~~~_

“Hello, Rachel,” Jonas said, watching her face. The initial surprise had vanished; instead something sad had taken over. She was probably remembering how they had met the last time. The first death was always the hardest. 

“Rachel?” her companion called out, worry in his voice. Jonas threw a glance in his direction, but saw no threat there. 

“You never told me you had a son,” he continued. 

“Look, mate...” Frank began, casting another worried glance at Rachel, who seemed to have frozen. He got cut off. 

“What if I do?” Rachel interrupted. 

Jonas smiled. 

“Immortals don’t have kids,” he answered, and shot her. 

**London**

Morning came, but the sunrise was hidden behind a stack of clouds. An ominous reminder of coming rain, or maybe even snow, but for now the clouds held onto their water. 

Nick Wolfe wasn’t particularly worried about rain. He barely glanced at the sky as he stepped out of the small motel where he had set himself up. A bit rundown, yes, but it served his purposes. As he began walking towards Trafalgar Square, he wondered why he was bothering playing this game. Curiosity, probably. Before he could deal with whoever was challenging him, he had to know who it was. 

Amanda was walking so fast she was in constant danger from slipping onto the iced pavement, but gracefully managed to keep her balance even when a car seemed to aim right for her. Drivers in London were the worst; some things didn’t change from one century to another. 

Turning a corner, she entered Trafalgar Square and stopped dead. A Presence filled her head, and she scanned the area until she saw the source. A dark man, with his back to her, walking away with a familiar determination. 

“Nick!” she cried out, “NICK!!!” For a brief, horrible second she thought he didn’t hear her, and then he slowly stopped. He stood silent with his back turned for another horrible second, and then he turned. Their eyes locked, his was dark and filled with anger, annoyance, surprise and something else she didn’t dare to acknowledge. 

“Amanda,” he said quietly. She’d taken several steps towards him before even realising she had, and then she ran. Ran until she was in his arms, clinging to him with all the strength she had. He didn’t try to push her away, but didn’t show any signs of welcoming the embrace either. After a while she finally let go, looking into his face. 

“You could have called!” Anger suddenly engulfed her. He was standing there, so calmly, and she... she... 

“What’s the point?” he said coolly. Instinctively, she slapped him. A short spark of amusement appeared in his cold eyes, and then it was gone so fast she wasn’t sure it had really been there. Silence ensued. And then, suddenly, she was kissing him. Or he was kissing her, she wasn’t sure. But he was the one deepening it, bringing his hands to her waist, pressing her closer. She let him, loosing herself in the feeling. She’d missed him so much, even if she were unwilling to admit it. Not even under torture would she admit Nick Wolfe had crawled under her skin. 

He was kissing her possessively, his hands starting to roam her body freely. She broke off a second to catch her breath, her heart pounding widely. 

“Amanda,” he whispered hoarsely, then felt the familiar pain of a Presence slam into his skull. By the way Amanda widened her eyes, he gathered she had felt it too. Looking around, he quickly determined its source. 

He looked no more than 20, his size causing him to loom over the nearby people. A long read beard he’d have to have grown for at least ten years made him seem a bit older, and that was probably what he was hoping for. 

Amanda seemed to have turned to stone by his side. 

“You know him?” 

She nodded as the man seemed to stride towards them, people walking out of his way rather than into it. 

“Erik. His own people called him 'the Bloody', which is saying a lot for Vikings. He’s good Nick, very good.” 

“You honour me.” Catching the last part, Erik gave her a head tilt, then turned to Nick. 

“Nick Wolfe. All recovered from that shooting?” 

“You were there.” Even as he said it, Nick knew the answer. 

“Yes.” 

“To kill me?” 

The Viking led out the loudest roar Nick had ever heard. As laughters go, it didn’t feel very comforting. Neither did his next words. 

“If I wanted you dead, you would be.” 

**The Footloose**

There was no slow motion, no significant loud music warning of danger. There was simply a sickening plop as the bullet dispensed from the gun and went into Rachel. She fell forward, her body collapsing as blood fell into the clear, clear ocean. He remembered the colour of the ocean very well; she had told him long ago it was the colour of his eyes. 

He wanted to run to her, but he seemed frozen in time even as the gun was turned towards him. He couldn’t feel his legs move, but they had to have moved anyway, for suddenly he found himself in the water. Diving, he barely felt the bullet sizzle into his arm. 

Rachel tried to breath, but the air had turned to flames, burning her throat. She tried to focus on something, but everything just seemed blue. She wanted to scream to Frank, but her body did not seem to listen anymore. Exhaling, she died. 

Jonas waited. When, with a gasp, Rachel came back to life, he knew he had what he needed. 

**London**

“I don’t need a teacher!” Nick snapped for what felt like the 100th time. Amanda just looked at him, and he knew he’d lose this fight. Erik was looking out the window from Amanda’s hotel room, obviously waiting for them to finish arguing. 

He was a strange guy, this Immortal. He’d simply said that he’d been told Nick needed a teacher because another Immortal was after his head, and that was it. Probing had proved as futile as trying to empty the ocean with a spoon. 

It still didn’t explain who had shot him, Nick thought with a sigh. Erik said he hadn’t seen whoever it was, of course that needn’t be true. And then there was Amanda. She had come bouncing into his life again, as surprisingly she had the first time. 

“How did you know where I was?” he suddenly asked as the thought occurred to him. 

“Someone told me.” She took a step towards him, but he took a step backwards, keeping his distance. Being close to her seemed to only complicate things further. 

“Nick...” 

He turned away, refusing to listen to the plea in her voice. 

“Someone’s after your head. Nick, you need a teacher...” 

“No!” he cut in, “I won’t get involved in your Game!” 

“You are involved! You will be involved as long as you keep your head!” 

He looked at her angrily, but she refused to back down. 

“And if someone is after yours, I won’t let him take it Nick, I won’t!” 

They stared at each other and finally he lowered his head. He didn’t know why he bothered. Fighting with her was impossible. Even when he won the arguments, he lost. She’d turned his life upside down, causing him to leave his work as a cop, move to Paris and make a new life for himself. 

“Damn it, Amanda,” he said, but it didn’t sound half as angry as he’d wanted it to be. 

**London**

“I have her.” The words seemed to echo over and over again in Henry’s head as he sat by his daughter’s bedside. She was sleeping, sometimes she’d let out a small gasp in her sleep. Even asleep she felt pain. 

No more. No more pain. Soon, very soon, he would find life. Lauren would laugh in her sleep again, like she used to when she was a baby. Other babies cried in their sleep, but Lauren laughed. 

“I have her.” Jonas had kept his word. He’d found the Immortal, an Immortal unlike all the others. Soon, she would be here. Jonas would have Amanda and Nick, as agreed, but he refused to think of that. 

Henry would have Lauren again. He’d take her to the beach and to all the oceans in the world, and she would laugh again. 

No more pain. 

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_~~~~~~~~_   
I'll close my eyes and sleep, sleep   
To the sound of London Rain   
~~~~~~~~ 

**The Pacific**

Numbness. 

Somewhere inside his skull he was screaming, but all Frank could feel was numbness. His body ached as he slowly got up from his hospital bed, but the pain couldn’t penetrate the numbness. Dressing, he saw the worried looks of the doctor, but he had been discharged, so he ignored it. 

Outside it was sunny. It was an insult. Rachel was dead. He’d seen the shot, seen her exhale one last time. A part of him almost wished he’d died there with her, or maybe he really had. He didn’t feel alive. 

He’d been found floating by the Footloose, unconscious. No sign of Rachel’s body, or the killer. He’d been sited on a plane to London, and he would surely be caught. Or so the authorities said. Frank tried to care, tried to hate, but he felt only this strange numbness. It felt like a rock in his chest, clogging his breath. 

He had to call Helen. 

He didn’t want to. He wanted to sleep until this nightmare ended, sleep to the sound of waves rocking the Footloose gently. He wanted to have nightmares, and wake up knowing they were just that – nightmares. 

He didn’t want to call Helen. He didn’t want to tell her he had failed. He’d killed Rachel. She would never forgive him. Never. 

He'd never forgive himself. Rachel would never forgive him. He had failed. Rachel was dead. 

He had to call Helen. 

He didn’t think he’d remember the number, but his hand dialled it for him and a second later her familiar voice filled the receiver. 

“Helen Blakemore.” 

“Helen, it’s... Frank.” He tried finding the words, any words, but they seemed so hollow now, so pointless. 

“Frank!” She sounded delighted, but a bit sad too. 

“I’m calling about Rachel,” he rushed out before she could ask. 

“I’m so sorry Frank. How did you find out?” She sounded distressed now; her words didn’t make sense to him. He tried to say something, but his voice seemed lost. 

“She died a year ago Frank, we have tried to contact you ever since...” 

“Helen,” he breathed. 

“I’m so, so sorry Frank,” she continued, but he couldn’t hear her voice anymore. He felt cold, and then hot, and then he couldn’t feel anything. 

“Rachel?” he whispered, without knowing it, shaking his head furiously. 

“Frank? Frank?” 

For a split second he wondered if it was a sick joke, then if he’d seen a ghost this last year. No. Her skin had felt warm and creamy under his touch. She had been real. She had been alive. He couldn’t have imagined kissing her. No. No. 

He remembered the smell of her hair, her scent. Closing his eyes, he could still remember it. Fresh, a hint of sea and that uniquely her. Smells were real. You couldn’t hallucinate smells. He’d read that somewhere. It was real. 

She hadn’t been dead. She had been dead, and then alive again. She died, and... 

_She could still be alive!_

Hanging up, he ran and ran until he almost fainted, but finally he reached the airport. 

**Sydney**

“Jack?” 

He looked up at Alex’s face, and knew something was wrong. 

“It’s probably just a prank...” She exchanged looks with Mick, their faces made of stone. "The New Zealand police are investigating Rachel’s murder. They’re asking us for family details and such.” 

He jumped at the name, feeling the familiar touch of guilt, anger and sadness jump at him. 

“Only they seem to think she died yesterday,” Mick continued, and Jack felt his own breath stop dead in his throat. 

“And they seem to think Frank was the eyewitness.” 

**Place Unknown**

Rachel woke slowly to the sound of rain. She’d been sedated much of the journey, ever since she had woken from the gunshot and hit Jonas squarely in his private parts. He’d seemed more amused than hurt, really. 

As the daze slowly lifted from her brain, she could see they were in a car and that it was indeed raining outside. It hurt to see, so she closed her eyes again. 

Immediately, she envisioned Frank’s face. She shouldn’t have come to him. She shouldn’t have... But it had felt so good to rest in his arms, and to take comfort in him. A single safe haven in a storming sea. 

Opening her eyes ago, she realised Jonas was beside her. Her ears were ringing with him so close. 

“Good morning,” he said, not at all unfriendly. She was tempted to deck him, but her limbs had no strength. 

“Where are we?” 

“London.” 

“Time to sleep again, my dear,” he said, and even as he said it, she felt her vision fade into blackness. 

**Enroute to London**

He remembers... 

A night, about a year ago. He was sleeping peacefully, dreamlessly, when suddenly, there she was. 

“Rachel!” he’d called out, but she only stood at the foot of his bed, blood pouring from her abdomen. He screamed – or at least he thought he’d screamed. She only looked at him, her eyes filled with pain. 

“Frank?” she whispered, “Is that... Frank?” 

“Rachel? Rachel!” She turned, as if to go, but he grabbed onto her hand, holding her back. He had the strangest feeling she was leaving forever. 

“I have to go, Frank.” Her voice sounded clearer now, but she seemed to disappear slowly into air before his very eyes. 

“No!” He held onto her for dear life, clinging to her hand, wishing he could take her pain, her blood. He couldn’t live without her, he couldn’t... 

“Rachel!” he screamed again, “Rachel!” 

He had woken screaming, and for a moment, he had thought she was still there, on his boat. But the feeling had left, and he had convinced himself it was only a nightmare. 

He wondered how many other nightmares he’d forgotten. 

**London**

“Tomorrow then,” Erik said as he walked out the door. Nick just nodded, closing the door as the Viking left. The room fell quiet. He could hear Amanda breathing behind him somewhere, and he heard the first drops of rain falling as it began cleaning the city of winter. 

He felt strange, as if he was awake and dreaming at once. Everything had happened so fast, he’d been holding his breath all along. Now, he could finally exhale. 

“Nick?” Her voice sounded so small suddenly, and he turned to look at her. She seemed unsure of herself, something he was unaccustomed too. She seemed small, he wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her. 

He stared at her for a long time, savouring the sight. Tomorrow things could be very different. Tomorrow they could be at each other again. But that was tomorrow. 

He took the two steps needed to close the distance between them. She stood completely still; as he leaned so close to her he felt her breath on his chin. She was breathing rapidly, her eyes closed. 

“I’m still angry with you,” he whispered, before grasping her lips with his. Their hands clasped, as the kiss grew more intense. She kissed him with such fire all-rational thoughts escaped him. He wanted her. And by the way she was pushing herself against him, he had a fairly good idea she wanted him too. Her eyes remained closed as he kissed her again and again, but he wanted her to look at him. Wanted her to acknowledge it was he she was kissing breathless. 

“Look at me,” he muttered against her ear, kissing it while at it. “Look at me.” 

She let out a quick breath, but did open her eyes. They were dark with desire and as they locked with his, he saw something beyond that. A wild feeling of ownership came over him. She was his. His. And he pushed her against the wall, pinning her between him and it. He felt her every curve and began eagerly exploring them with his hands. She smiled into his neck, his hair tickling her. 

His hands felt warm on her, but she wanted more. Much more. She ripped his jacket off and began tearing at his shirt. And suddenly he had locked her arms to her side and wouldn’t let her. 

“Nick,” she protested half-heartedly, but as soon as she opened her mouth, he had covered it with his own. He was much more demanding now, kissing her with such fire she almost went weak in the knees. And yet it wasn’t enough. She struggled to get her hands free; to pull him even closer, but his grip was too strong. 

Suddenly he paused, grabbing her shirt and tearing it off. She let out a quick breath as a rush of cold air swept over her, but his mouth was already warming her again as it descended on her breasts. She panted, her hands finally freed caressing his neck. 

When he pulled back, he was breathing as hard as her. The rest of their clothes were thrown in a pile on the floor as skin touched skin. 

“Amanda,” he gasped, pushing her up, letting her legs encircle his waist. She was freefalling and flying at once as she went higher and higher until it all exploded in a white light and Nick embraced her. 

Outside, the rain continued to fall. 

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_~~~~~~~~_   
Memories are poor weapons   
When grief lays naked and awake   
~~~~~~~~ 

**London**

It was bloody freezing. A cold wind seemed to pass right through his clothing, but Frank refused to back down. He didn’t really know where to start, Jonas seemed to have vanished in thin air. And London was big. He could walk forever without ever finding them. 

Faith. He had to have faith. He would find her. 

“Excuse me?” An old man came walking up to him, somewhat limping. “Frank Holloway?” 

“Do I know you?” 

“I’m Joe. I’m looking for Henry Adams.” 

“Who?” 

“A member of an organization of mine. I believe he’s looking for your friend.” 

“For Rachel?” The air was still. The wind seemed to have died, all Frank could hear were his own breath, in short, quick puffs. 

“Yes. Savoy hotel, room 422. Tell Amanda I hoped everything worked out.” 

“Amanda?” Even as he asked, Joe was starting to walk away, not even turning as he replied. 

“Henry will find them.” 

And though every instinct in him screamed for him to question the old man further, Frank let him walk away. He had a sickening feeling in his stomach urging him to hurry. Why, he wasn’t quite sure, but he had been a cop long enough not to ignore it. He’d had the same feeling when those drug dealers had kidnapped Rachel and they had driven off with her, and he had be right then. 

And somehow... he trusted this man. 

Pausing a bit further down the street, Joe turned and watched Frank head off. As head of the Watchers, he’d seemed the ripples Immortals had caused just appearing in people’s lives for a brief second. This man loved an Immortal. He could use all the help he got. 

And he had a task to do, Joe reminded himself. Henry Adams had betrayed the Watchers and gone after an Immortal to find eternal life. Immortals going after Immortals, like Jonas was going after Amanda and Nick, he could not really interfere with, but Henry was a former watcher. He had violated the code. 

Continuing towards his car, Joe threw a look up at the sky. The rain had stopped, and the clouds were scattering. The blue sky was beginning to show, and it seemed lighter than in a long time. It promised that spring was approaching. 

* * *

In the darkness of sleep, there were no dreams, only memories. 

She remembers... 

Jack. Yelling at him for being a jerk, yelling at him for being sweet and yelling at him for being attractive. She remembers kissing him, letting his arms encircle her. She remembers... dying in his arms. 

She remembers... 

Walking around in Sydney, feeling more lost than she ever had before. Wanting to go home and forget it all. She remembers meeting Jonas, who spoke gently and told her the truth. A horrible truth. 

She remembers... 

Frank. The look on absolute surprise on his face as she walked up to him. She fell into his arms, and told him not to ask. 

He never had. She half-wishes he had, that he had forced the truth out of her. Maybe it would have caused the hard lump in her chest to disappear. He had softened her heart, he could have softened the pain too. 

She remembers... 

The words. “You are Immortal.” 

She is Immortal. Rachel Goldstein is dead. 

**Lauren’s room**

“Dad?” Lauren strained to see him in the dark room, but all she could see where the light from the fish tank. He’d bought it for her to give her a “taste of the ocean”, as he called it, but she could barely stand to look at it. The fish were prisoners in the little glass cage. So was she. 

“Dad?” she called again, lifting the bed cover. She felt hot, the heat had been turned all the way up again. She almost missed the hospital, but daddy had told her they needed to move. At last there her room had been cool. He seemed to think she would freeze here, and turned up the heat despite her insistence otherwise. 

It felt wonderful to stand again, even though her legs were shaking from the strain. One step, two steps, three and she reached the door. It opened soundlessly. 

The hallway was empty, but she could hear voices now, mumbling from beneath her. As she approached the stairway, they became clearer. 

“They’re here.” 

“Yes,” she heard her father reply, as her feet collapsed under her and she sat down on the first step of the stairway. 

“Good. It’s been nice doing business with you, Henry. We should do this more often.” 

Silence ensued for a while, and she almost thought they had both walked off, when she heard the other male voice again. 

“I should warn you, the Immortal is not very co-operative. I don’t think she knows how she became Immortal.” 

“I will find out.” 

“In any case, that’s not my problem. Where are Amanda and Nick?” 

“The Savoy. Room 422. It’s not holy ground, and everything has been set up as we discussed.” 

“Good. You will have the Immortal once you have taken me there.” 

“That was not the agreement!” Her father sounded angry, his voice was rising. 

“I changed it. You’re lucky I‘m bothering to honour it at all. Mortals die so easily, and you come in such numbers.” 

“Let’s get this over with.” 

The door slammed behind them. 

Lauren felt cold. Summoning her last strength, she walked back to her room and fell on top of the covers. There she cried, not for herself, but for her father and the memory of who he had once been. 

Her father was dying with her. 

**The Savoy Hotel, 3 a.m.**

The elevator door opened with an almost silent hiss, and Frank stepped into the hallway. As he began walking towards room 422, the hiss grew. He turned around, but it wasn’t coming from the elevator. In fact, it grew as he continued down the hall. 

It sounded like a snake, yet not quite. It had a mechanical quality to it, somehow. Like air pushing through a pipe, or... 

The elevator door hissed open again, and Frank had barely time to duck behind a corner as he saw one of the men stepping out of the elevator. Rachel’s killer. Or attempted killer, for she had to be alive. She had to be. 

Footsteps came towards him, and he made a dive for room 422. The door wasn’t shut, something had been stuck in the doorframe to keep it open. 

He observed a bed, two lifeless bodies on it and a small container as the source of the hissing before he dived behind the couch. Moments later, the door barged open again. He heard the familiar voice he had heard over and over again in his nightmares. 

“You deliver as promised. Sedated, and unarmed. It would be easy to take their heads here and now. But we have so much to talk about.” 

Peaking over the side of the couch, Frank saw one of the men pick up the canister, which was still smoking. 

“You’re a genius, Henry. Sedating them with gas yourself so my Presence wouldn’t alarm them. I’ll have my friends bring the Immortal to you. Do with her as you like.” 

Frank heard the dialling of a phone and a quick conversation in a language he couldn’t understand. He thought he heard Rachel’s name, and his breath quickened. 

“You have what you want now. I will wait downstairs.” 

“That’s your flaw, Henry. You have no stomach for blood.” 

“And you have too much taste for it, Jonas,” Henry spat at him, before walking out. 

Frank hesitated. There was only one left in the room, but he didn’t know if “Jonas” was armed. Crawling soundlessly to the end of the couch, he took in the situation. 

Jonas was holding a sword while cuffing one of the people in the bed to the bedpost. A blonde female, the other one was... 

“Nick,” Frank breathed in surprise, getting a glimpse of the man’s face. Nick Wolfe. What the hell was he doing here? At the same time, Jonas turned, obviously having heard something. 

Their eyes locked, Jonas raising the sword, Frank lurching onto him. Jonas was a second faster, the sword slashed through flesh, before Frank managed to knock it free and it flied through the air. 

“You again!” It was a snarl more than anything else, as Jonas lost balance and fell. Frank was on him in a matter of seconds, anger fuelling his every move. 

“Where’s Rachel??!!” 

He got only laughter in reply as they wrestled on the floor, both reaching for the sword. 

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with!” Jonas shot back, trying to wriggle his fingers the needed centimetres to grab hold of the sword’s hilt. Frank had no breath to reply, as he felt his fingers close on something. He struck out with it, only realising it was a gun when it made contact with Jonas’s neck. 

The man went limp on top of him, and Frank pushed himself up, holding onto the gun. It had been lying by the bed, so it had to have been Nick’s. Looking down at the floor, he saw blood dripping from his side. 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, feeling his legs collapse under him as the floor came crashing upwards. 

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_~~~~~~~~  
And you die so slowly you think you still live   
~~~~~~~~_

Nick awoke slowly to the worst headache of his life. His head seemed to pound with pain, and he clutched it as the room came into view. Would it be just as painful to wake up beside an Immortal every time? He found himself wondering, before he suddenly realised he was feeling the Presence of two Immortals. 

“What the...” he muttered, glancing over at Amanda, who for some reason was cuffed to the bed, and not by his doing. His gaze wandered to the floor, where two men were passed out. 

“Amanda!” he hissed, as he got up, quickly getting his pants on. His confusion grew as he saw whom the men were. 

“Jonas Sanderson?” Last time he had seen the bastard, was being hauled off to prison, screaming curses and promising revenge. And... 

“Frank Holloway?” The Australian cop he’d met on Hawaii, getting quite drunk with. What the hell was he doing here? 

“Hmmmpppff...” Amanda muttered, “what the...?” She bolted upwards, or tried to anyway. The handcuffs stopped her midair. 

“Nick!” 

“Not my doing, however tempting,” he replied, picking up the sword and throwing it at the bed, then taking the gun from Frank. The Australian was bleeding rather badly, and he tried applying some pressure to stop it. 

“Jonas?” Amanda asked surprised, getting a glimpse of their guests. 

“How the hell do you know Jonas Sanderson?” 

“I... How do you know him?” she shot back, fiddling with her handcuffs. 

“I arrested him.” 

“I killed his wife.” 

They exchanged glances as she managed to open the handcuffs. 

“We better get him to a hospital,” Nick muttered, concentrating on Frank again, at the same time as Jonas stirred. 

“Nick!” Amanda warned, and he span around, taking hold of the sword on the way. Jonas was already up, and heading for the door. 

“Take care of Frank!” Nick snapped, chasing after. 

“Frank?” she muttered as she grabbed the phone. 

“We need an ambulance!” she told the hotel receptionist, and hung up without bothering to wait for a reply 

“Rachel?” the man began to mutter, “Rachel??” 

“Shh,” she said quietly, holding the shirt Nick had used as a bandage against the wound. It was bleeding rather badly, but it was in the shoulder and didn’t seem fatal. 

With dread she looked at the door where Nick had disappeared, remembering just how good a sword fighter Jonas was. She had barely escaped with her life last time she’d met him, only a decade ago in Paris. 

“You’re Amanda?” She felt strong blue eyes on her, and looked down to see that Frank was conscious. 

“Joe told me you would be here,” he continued, wincing at the pain when she lost her grip on his arm in surprise. 

“Shit! I need your help...” 

**The Savoy, the reception**

Henry waited. Something inside him was screaming, screaming in Emily’s voice. Sweet Emily, who had given him Lauren and love beyond reason. He couldn’t listen to her now. He’d grieved her for ten years, and was still grieving, and her voice was so sweet, but it was too late. 

His conscience could take any voice it wanted, he wouldn’t listen. Emily would understand. She had told him to take care of their daughter. 

The door opened. Stepping into the room was woman, and he knew it was her. Two men, thugs hired by Jonas no doubt, accompanied her. He was about to identify himself, when Amanda came running into the room. 

Rachel saw her chance as the two men froze in surprise. The sedatives were wearing off, and if she ever was to escape, this could be her chance. She pushed the fellow to her right, and punched the one to her right. At the corner of her eye she saw someone else enter the room, but didn’t have time to notice who. 

Groaning in pain, her opponent tried to grab hold of her wrists. She kicked him hard on the leg. The receptionist behind her gasped, taking cover behind the desk. 

She was alive. As Frank staggered into the lobby, he saw Rachel punching the lights out of some thug. Amanda was going at the other one, but all he had eyes for were Rachel. 

With a solid blow to the jaw, she knocked out the idiot she was facing, and turned towards him. Their eyes locked. 

She froze. 

“Frank!” Amanda shouted, handing him the gun. “Watch them!” 

She pointed towards the men, both lying groaning on the floor, before charging up the stairs. He hardly noticed. And neither noticed Henry quietly slipping out, or the receptionist fearfully running into his office and calling the police. 

“Rachel...” 

She was alive. 

“You’re alive,” he whispered, taking a step towards her and reaching out to touch her. She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding as he did. He winced as he did, the wound on his shoulder burning with pain. He ignored it, holding onto the gun with his well arm. 

“I hoped... I wished... I wanted to believe, but... how...?” his face was a mixture of joy and confusion as his hand traced the outline of her cheek. 

“I died, Frank.“ He winced at the worlds, but didn’t protest. 

“I know. I saw you die. And... I talked to Helen, and she said...” 

“That I died a year ago,” she finished. “I did die. But I woke up again. Frank... I’m Immortal. I can’t die from bullets or by natural causes.” 

He didn’t seem taken aback by her word, just thoughtful. 

“But you can die?” 

“Yes. By decapitating by head.” He raised an eyebrow, but realised it did explain the swords. 

“Why didn’t you tell Helen you were alive, or David for that matter?” 

“They thought I was dead!” Tears were forming in her eyes, as she remembered watching her own funeral at a distance, seeing David, Jack, Helen, and Jeff... 

“But you can tell me?!?” 

“You came chasing after me to London!” 

“And if I hadn’t, you would have let me think you dead?” 

“Yes!” she shouted at him with all the anger she could muster, “Yes, I would have!” 

“Why?” 

“The Rachel you knew died. I don’t feel like I am her anymore. I...” All the strength vanished from her limbs, and fell against the wall, feeling Frank’s eyes on her. “I died,” she repeated, flatly. 

The door flew open as the paramedics and police came charging in, and the receptionist let out a sigh of relief. 

* * *

“Shit!” Nick muttered, as he turned the corner, and realised the hallway was empty. He couldn’t have lost the guy, the head start had only been a few seconds. 

There was a door at the end of the hallway, and he approached it with caution, nudging it open. It led to the fire escape, and looking upwards he caught a glimpse of a fleeing shadow. Taking the stairs two steps at a time, he son reached the roof and saw Jonas’s still figure greeting him. 

“I always carry an extra!” Jonas called out, whipping up his sword and charging at Nick. 

Steel met steel in the faint moonlight. 

“I knew you were an Immortal when I met you. I hoped I would be the one to get your head!” 

“All this because I arrested you?!” Nick shot back, ducking a blow that went only centimetres above him. 

“You and that blonde bitch keep screwing up my life!” Dodging Nick’s sword, Jonas took a few steps to the left, trying to get out of Nick’s line of sight. The two eyed each other carefully, looking for an opening. 

Jonas suddenly charged, attacking fast, Nick was barely fast enough to block a upward swing, then one from the left, right, right again, left... Both were breathing heavily when Jonas took a few steps backwards to assess the situation. 

Nick followed him, taking a quick swing towards the feet. Trying to avoid the blow, Jonas tripped, momentarily out of balance. 

And suddenly, Nick’s sword flew through the air, encountering Jonas’s neck on the way. Even before the sword had come full circle, Nick felt the energy begin to build within him and the sky turned black over him. 

The Quickening. He’d seen it happen to Amanda when she beheaded another Immortal, and now it was happening to him. Sparks flew. Lifting his arms up, lightning seemed to strike him and surge through his body. He felt strangely alive and exhausted at the same time. As he fell to his knees, he heard his name being called. 

“Nick!” 

Amanda stood by the stairs, straining to see who had won. He could imagine her agony – he had felt it often enough when she was the one fighting. 

One last lightning hit him, and then Amanda came running, all the time crying out his name. 

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_~~~~~~~~  
Time sees all and hears all – and reveals all secrets   
~~~~~~~~_

**Morning**

It was a misty morning, the fog hugging the ground like a blanket of greyness. The sun was up, but it was hard to tell. The daylight was bleak. The greyness seemed to catch on to the houses, the cars and the people. It was all a grey haze. 

Frank felt himself slowly begin to reach consciousness. His mind felt foggy, it took him a while to reason it had to be medication. He couldn’t feel his arm, which was probably a good thing. There was a smell surrounding him he couldn’t quite distinguish. Sort of sweet, sickly sweet, and clean. Voices began to penetrate the fog, like a radio turned on with the volume slowly increasing. 

“This is all your fault!” 

“My fault? As I recall, you were the one who went running off to London!” 

“And you followed me!” 

“Well, excuse me for being concerned! What was I supposed to do Nick, sit around and wait for you to die?” 

“I can take care of myself, Amanda!” 

Blinking, he tried to adjust his eyes to the bright white light. A hospital. Definitely a hospital. 

“Frank?” 

Rachel’s face came into view, and for a moment he revelled in it. He tried to smile reassuringly, but his smile turned into a grimace as he could finally feel his arm. 

“Ouch!” 

“How’s the arm?” Nick came into view, and shortly after, his blonde companion. 

“Sore.” 

“No wonder, you needed 27 stitches,” Nick informed him, “but you’ll survive.” 

“The police...” Frank began, then gulped as he tried to swallow the gigantic piece of cotton in his throat. 

“We told them you were mugged. The two we knocked out refuse to talk, so no one has contradicted the story. We conveniently let it slip you were a cop,” Amanda smiled. 

“You let it conveniently slip,” Nick corrected her. “Frank, this Amanda Montrose. We’re...” 

“Partners,” she shot in, giving him a look that he returned. 

“What happened to Jonas?” Frank interrupted their staring match, casting a glance at Rachel. She seemed unusually quiet and still, sitting by the foot of his bed. 

“As we were telling Rachel, he won’t be bothering us anymore.” 

“Yes, before you started insisting it was all my fault.” 

Just as Frank thought the two would start the argument all over again, the nurse entered, sending everyone in the room a displeased look. 

“I’ll have to ask you all to wait in the hallway while I look to this patient.” 

Rachel sent Frank a comforting smile as she exited, breathing a sigh of relief as she did. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him, she just... 

“You’re just afraid he’ll ask the questions you want to ignore,” a little voice inside her whispered treacherously. 

“Shut up!” she told it firmly. It was for the best. She was dead. What could she have done, walked up to her son and told him she could survive a stabbing, a gun shot, even a plane crash? That everyone who thought her dead had been wrong? 

In the corner of her eye, she noticed Amanda waving Nick off insistently. He seemed rather hesitant to leave, but did eventually trot off down the corridor. Moments later, the blonde Immortal was by her side, smiling. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

And even though talking about it was the last thing on Rachel’s mind, she found herself nodding. 

Silence hadn’t kept the memories away. 

**Sydney, a year ago**

“Be strong,” Rachel told herself, but no part of her body or min seem to listen. It was all she could do just to stand up. 

Jack. She could see him from across the field, talking to David by her graveside. Two of the men of her lives, standing there together, mourning her. She could see that David was wearing his brave face, more than anything she wanted to see it replaced by a grin. 

“They won’t understand, you know,” Jonas had told her, “You are Immortal. You will scare them.” She’d refused to believe him, wanting to run straight to David and hug him forever. But as she stood there, frozen in the shadows, watching them, she realised she couldn’t. 

“David,” she muttered, watching him walk away in the other direction. Every fibre of her body wanted to run. Yet she didn’t. She stood still and watched her old life walk away from her. 

“David...” When he was out of sight, she finally broke down, tears running freely. She cried and cried until there were no tears, and then she cried even more. But eventually a strange calm came over her, and she sat down on the grass. She sat like that, quietly, in the sun for a long time. 

After all, she had plenty of time. It was all she had. 

**Lauren’s room**

Henry slept. He’d come home late, barely speaking to her at all. She’d wanted to talk to him, tell him she felt the time coming, and that she wanted him there. But as he’d fallen asleep by her bedside, exhausted, writing on his laptop, she’d realised he was beyond her reach. 

He didn’t even look peaceful in his sleep, just haunted. Carefully, she managed to edge the laptop from him and into her hands. The password was easy enough. 'Emily'. 

It was all there. As she read it, a strange calm fell over her. He wanted to take a life to gain one, but it wasn’t his to give. 

“The key lays in the Immortal Quickening,” she read, “a phenomena caused by the death of an Immortal. Under controlled circumstances...” 

Closing her eyes, she felt her mother emerge again. It seemed to happen more often now, as she stepped closer to death, her mother felt closer too. Sometimes she spoke, sometimes she would sing, and sometimes she was just there. Lauren felt comforted by her presence. 

_Do you remember Ulysses, honey?_

“Yes, mom.” 

_We are not now that strength which in old days_   
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;   
One equal temper of heroic hearts,   
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will   
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. 

Her mother fell silent again, but Lauren could still feel her, building strength. Her father had been strong for a long time. It was time for her to be strong now, and not to yield. 

**London Hospital, the present**

“Some cannot handle the transition from mortal life,” Amanda told Rachel, having listened to her tale. “Old lives can be hard to leave behind.” 

A small silence fell, enabling them to hear Nick pace the hallway further down. 

“How long have you been Immortal?” Rachel finally asked. 

“Twelve hundred years. Give or take.” 

“And Nick?” 

“About four weeks.” She smiled sadly. “My doing, I’m afraid. I knew he was pre-Immortal before he died. He was poisoned. A slow death like that wouldn’t trigger his Immortality. I couldn’t let him die, so I shot him. He woke up later, less than pleased.” 

“So you can tell... if someone is to become an Immortal?” 

“Yes.” 

“You just feel it?” 

“More or less.” 

“What about...” Rachel hesitated, “Frank? Is he...?” 

Amanda looked down. “It’s hard to say. You have spent more time with him. Do you feel he’s an pre-Immortal?” 

“No,” Rachel whispered, feeling a cold shiver down her spine. “Frank, David, Jack... They’ll all die before me. But David... he hasn’t inherited Immortality from me, has he?” 

“Inherited? He’s... he’s your birth son?” 

“Yes,” Rachel replied, slightly puzzled at Amanda’s apparent surprise. 

“I thought he was your adopted son. You gave birth to him?!” 

“Amanda?” Nick came walking up, “we have an appointment to keep, remember? Watchers to bug for answers an all that.” 

“Yes, Nick,” she said in the voice he’d come to recognise as mocking. “We’re off to find out who our mysterious watcher is. If he’s name really is Henry.” 

“And find out why he wants me,” Rachel said quietly. 

“We’ll stop by later,” Nick said after a moment’s tense silence. “Better keep Frank away from the nurses!” 

She smiled, despite the joke being cheesy. He winked at her as he and Amanda walked off. 

After the two exited, Rachel felt her headache return. The strong Presence of two Immortals in her head seemed to have pushed the headache away. Here it came back, twice as strong. 

Immortal healing didn’t include headaches, it would seem. 

She sighed. Dying really complicated your life. But what worried her most was David. Jonas had mentioned him, something about “Immortals not having kids”, and then Amanda’s surprised reaction. Jonas seemed to have thought the fact that she had a kid important enough to take her. But why? Didn’t Immortals have kids? 

“Shit!” she cursed to herself, then got up and walked towards Frank’s room. She wanted to yell at him, for complicating her life, for making her feel comfortable, for... for being there. Yell at him for anything, and nothing. 

As she approached the room, someone walked in. She got but a brief look of a man’s back, but for some reason it filled her with dread. She stopped dead. 

“Frank!” she heard a familiar voice call out. Her knees threatened to buckle, her feet threatened to give in under her, and she clung desperately to the wall for support. It couldn’t be... Not here... Not now... 

“Jack!” she heard Frank reply, and the world went momentarily black. She couldn’t feel her breath anymore. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Frank continued, and she could hear the surprise in his voice. 

“You reported Rachel’s death in New Zealand. But Rachel died a year ago. So what the hell is going on? What are you doing in London?” 

She took one step forward and looked into the room. It was Jack. She would recognise that back anywhere. She had no sense of what she was doing as she stumbled away, terrified he would turn and see her, but hoping he would. 

“Frank?” Jack asked again. 

The silence lasted forever. 

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_~~~~~~~~_   
Do you wonder how I stay   
So complacent   
It's like waiting for the ocean   
To save you from the waves   
~~~~~~~~ 

Frank starred at Jack in disbelief, barely believing his own eyes. Jack – here? Shit, they must have gotten wind of the police report in New Zealand. He hadn’t thought that far. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he spurted out, before thinking. 

“You reported Rachel’s death in New Zealand. But Rachel died a year ago. So what the hell is going on? What are you doing in London?” Jack replied, sounding quite pissed. 

Contradicting thoughts ran through Frank’s head, but at the heart of them all were Rachel. Jack obviously hadn’t spotted her in the corridor. He thought her dead. And the truth... the truth was a mess. 

“It wasn’t Rachel,” Frank lied. If Rachel didn’t want Jack to know, he wouldn’t be the one to tell. “It was a young brunette. I think her name was... Jenny or something.” 

Jack gave him a sceptic look. 

“We met the night before... I was really, really pissed, Jack... You know me. And this brunette was there. She looked so like Rachel, it was uncanny. I thought she was Rachel, and I hit on her. I guess she thought me cute.” 

“Bull.” 

“I was pissed Jack. When I woke up the next morning her boyfriend came to pick her up. He wasn’t pleased. He took a shot at me, I got a little flesh wound to remember the incident by.” 

“And why’d you run off to London like you had a rocket up your ass?!” 

“My old buddy Nick needed help. Maybe you ran into him in the corridor... tall, dark, American...” 

“With a blonde on his tail?” 

“Yeah.” 

Jack hesitated. He had a feeling there was something here, something he wasn’t supposed to know, but what? He’d watched Rachel die, her killer had been caught and they had all tried to move on. 

“How did she die?” Frank suddenly asked, looking down. 

“She was stabbed. It was... it was my fault. I turned my back for a few seconds, and... I’m sorry.” Taking a deep breath, Jack fought back a rush of emotions. “She spoke of you... before she died.” 

Looking at Frank again, Jack felt his anger fade. He’d come here having some wild fantasy it’d all been a lie, Rachel was alive and in some witness protection thing. He would have been so angry with her, but so relieved. He hadn’t killed her. The pain would go away. 

Only it wasn’t like that. Pain fades, it doesn’t go away. 

* * *

Nick glanced over at Amanda as they walked out. She looked deep in thought. His own mind was also struggling with processing it all; Amanda’s return, mysterious watchers, killing an Immortal, Frank turning up looking for his ex-partner and this Rachel. 

He wondered how she fit into it all. It was pretty clear she was tied to them, or rather, the Watcher who’d sold them out. Henry-something. 

“What did she tell you?” he asked Amanda, holding the door for her. She gave him a quick smile. 

“She has a son named David. She’s his birth mom, apparently.” 

“I though Immortals couldn’t have kids of their own.” 

She looked up at him. “Exactly.” 

“So how...?” 

She shrugged. “There is something strange about them both. She’s Immortal alright though.” 

“I’m driving,” he told her as they approached the rental car. “You can find Joe and ask him why Watchers suddenly chase us, and not just follow in the distance like they used to.” 

“What their interest in Rachel is,” she added, opening the car door. 

“At least Jonas is out of the way,” he noted, “one less problem to worry about.” 

As they got in, Amanda glanced over at him. She knew that look. It was his cop look, whenever he stumbled upon a case. He may have quit the force, but the instincts had remained. She wondered what Immortal life would do to him. She didn’t want him to change. He could be as annoying as hell, but she didn’t want him to change. 

“When all this is over... will you...” her voice faltered. He knew what she meant to say, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

“Will I what?” 

“Stay with me?” 

“Amanda...” he hesitated, turning the engine on, “I... We can talk about it when this whole mess is over.” 

Reaching for the gear stick, Amanda caught his hand mid-air. He looked up, seeing her smile at him in an almost sad way. 

“Please?” she said, and he knew she meant it. But it wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t have worked when he was mortal, and it certainly wouldn’t work when he was Immortal. She knew it, too. 

Yet... Yet he wanted to have the illusion that it would work for as long as he could. 

* * *

“Take care, Frank,” Jack told him earnestly as he approached the door. 

“You too, mate,” Frank replied, “I’ll give you a call sometime.” 

The two men exchanged glances in an unspoken understanding, before Jack walked out. He felt strangely sad, yet relieved. It was out of his system now. Rachel’s death had been like a cancer tumour in his mind, eating away at him silently. It was time to let it go. 

He suddenly had a sensation of being watched. The back of his neck tickled, and he could almost feel eyes grilling holes in his back. But when he turned, the hallway was empty. 

And Jack walked away. When Rachel looked around the corner again, he was gone. Out of her life. For better or worse. It may not haven been the right choice, but it had been her choice. 

A few minutes later, she walked into Frank’s room. He looked up at her, noticing how pale she was and that her eyes were filled with sadness. Closing the door behind her, she met his worried glance. 

“You lied to him.” 

He shrugged. “If anyone is to tell him the truth, it’s you.” 

“I can’t,” she whispered, walking up to him and sitting down on the bedside. “I loved him. I couldn’t tell him.” 

“You loved him?” 

“After you left... I was so alone. And he was there. I got used to having him there, and... Yeah, I loved him.” 

They didn’t say anymore for a while, barely noticing the nurse closing the door to the room. 

“Rach? Why did you come to me?” Frank finally asked, taking her hand. 

“It was the only place I could think of,” she answered truthfully. And suddenly it was all too much, and she fell against his chest, tears flowing. He put his arms around her as she cried for the life she’d lost, for all those she had left behind. And because, with time... 

She would lose Frank too. 

* * *

“Joe?” Amanda called out as she knocked on the door. Nick was looking over her shoulder, and she found his presence a bit distracting. His forearm was brushing against hers and made her hairs stand on end. She looked up at him, wondering just when she ha fallen in love with Nick Wolfe. She hadn’t expected it, and her life sure would have been easier without him. But it would have been so much emptier too. 

“You’re staring,” he told her, letting a finger run through her hair. 

“Amanda. Nick,” Joe greeted them, opening the door. 

“Imagine finding you here in London,” Nick said deadpan. 

“Come in,” Joe said as he was taking a few steps into the room, “I see you two have kissed and made up.” 

“Let’s talk about Henry,” Nick replied, ignoring the comment. “And why a Watcher sets a Immortal up to kill me and Amanda.” 

“Former Watcher,” Joe said with a sigh, “it’s a very long story.” 

“We have plenty of time.” 

“But Henry hasn’t,” Joe replied, looking over at the computer where Lauren’s picture was onscreen. A young, brave girl who deserved to live a long, happy life. But she wouldn’t. 

Some people didn’t get to live forever. 

* * *

Frank was stroking her hair slowly as Rachel began breathing easier. She’d cried against his chest for what felt like a small eternity, and he’d felt helpless. 

“I don’t want to live like this, Frank,” she muttered, “This game... I never wanted... So many people are hurt. I don’t want to watch David die. I want to grow old.” 

“Shhh,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll deal with this.” 

She let his words sooth her, knowing them to be untrue. But she would believe it for tonight, for his sake. She looked up at him, clasping his hand in hers. 

It scared him. She was never like this. She had always been strong. He sometimes had a feeling he was talking to a stranger. Maybe she was right. Maybe a part of her had died. 

He shook the thought away. It was just the shock that made her act this way, he convinced himself. Better to take her mind of it. 

“The first night on the Footloose... when we...” he smiled, “you know.” 

“I wanted it,” she replied softly. He kissed her impulsively, like he had the day on the pier when she had first turned up. He’d been so happy that day, even though he’d known something was wrong. 

She let him deepen the kiss, grateful to feel something besides pain and regret for once. It was so simple, and the rest of her life was so complicated. So very, very complicated. 

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

_~~~~~~~~_   
A strange lullaby it is   
For it is my own   
~~~~~~~~ 

Lauren had been sixteen when she had been diagnosed with cancer. The time before she’d gotten ill, she hardly remembered anymore. It felt faint, like a dream after you have woken up. She could remember her dad laughing, and how he proudly told her he was writing history. 

He had loved his work. Her illness had made him hate it. 

She had read many of his files on the computer, and she had understood his desperation. She wanted to make her mother live again, but not by taking someone else’s place in the world. There was a place for her mother within her, and for both of them within her dad. 

Exhausted, she had fallen asleep, and when she woke, her father had been gone. She knew where he was going, and she knew what she had to do. 

Her legs didn’t even shake as she got up, and she felt better than she had in months. She had avoided taking her medication, and while she could feel the muttering pain, her mind felt clear. Her body felt like it was hers again. 

She took a long shower. The water felt wonderful against her skin, washing away the smell of illness. Looking into the mirror, the reflection finally looked like her, not a ghost. 

She dressed warm, wearing her mother’s clothes. She had outgrown her own. The nurse was asleep in the kitchen, so she sneaked out silently. The dark night sky was the most beautiful sight she had seen in a long time. The stars seemed so clear, blinking down to her. But the stars she was watching were long dead; only their light lived on. 

**Joe’s hotel room**

“And now we don’t know where he has taken her, we only know she’s running out of time,” Joe summed up, letting out a sigh. 

“So we have a former desperate Watcher who wants Immortality for his dying daughter, and sells us out to an Immortal to get it,” Nick observed, “But why Rachel?” 

“You are born Immortal,” Amanda replied, “But Rachel... I think she has become Immortal. If he can find out how...” 

“He can make his daughter Immortal,” Nick concluded. 

“And he’s running out of time. Lauren doesn’t have long to live,” Joe added, noticing Nick just barely wince at the name. Amanda noticed; she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Of course. Nick’s ex-wife, Lauren Wolfe. She had been tragically killed by an Immortal, an Immortal Nick later had taken the head off of. 

“I would watch your friend if I were you,” Joe advised after a short silence. 

“She’s staying at the hospital with Frank. I think she should be safe. I can head over there and keep them company just to be sure,” Nick said, forcing old ghosts away. 

“Good idea. I’ll go talk to some old friends who might help us find Henry,” Amanda suggested. 

“I already have many looking for him,” Joe replied, but she just smiled. 

“Yes, but darling... I can make men very talkative.” 

**The Hospital**

The sky was slowly turning from grey to black as Nick walked into the hospital. He felt a Presence almost as soon as he did. Assuming it was Rachel, he still walked down the corridors looking over his shoulders until he reached Frank’s room. 

Knocking, he waited until he got a reply before walking in. 

Frank was asleep. Rachel stood by the bed, but judging by the mess her clothes wee in, he was willing to bet a fortune she’d been in that bed just a minute before. 

“How is he?” Nick asked. 

“Alright, I think. A lot to think about.” She bit her lower lip. “How did you deal with it?” 

“Immortality?” He shrugged. “I don’t. Not yet, and I hope I never will.” 

“Why?” 

“Because it doesn’t make sense to me. They – we - can live forever, but instead they...” he paused. “Damnit... I still think of Immortals as ‘they’.” 

“So why are you here?” 

He looked over at her, wondering how much she had put together. “To be on the safe side. And... I was Frank not that long ago. A mortal trying to protect an Immortal, knowing I could just be a footnote in her life story, yet...” 

He shrugged his shoulders. “Life seemed so precious around her.” 

“Nick...” she hesitated, wanting him to understand her need to know. “Amanda never told you that you would become Immortal, did she?” 

“No.” 

“But you would have wanted to know?” 

“Yes. It was my life.” 

“And this is my life. I need to know.” 

He nodded, opening the door and gesturing to her to follow. They found a silent spot in the hallway, sitting down on by the window. There was a tree outside, the wind causing the branches to gently shriek. 

“You’re not... a run-of-the-mill Immortal, Rachel,” Nick finally said, having wondered how to explain it to her. 

“I know. I have a son.” 

“Yeah. Immortals don’t have kids by birth. You weren’t born an Immortal, but you must have gained Immortality. And there will always be someone who wants what you have.” He laughed bitterly. “They have no idea the package it comes with.” 

“How?” she asked, feeling as if she had been punched in the stomach. She had suspected something like this, but to hear it confirmed... For a brief second she wished she hadn’t asked, but the feeling passed. At least now she knew. 

“I honestly don’t know.” He let a hand rest on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She looked up at him and saw earnest sympathy and understanding. 

They sat in silence for a while the clock kept eating seconds, minutes and hours. 

* * *

It was a quiet night. Yet some areas of the hospital buzzed with activity, as there had been a ca accident just down the road. Nurses ran to and fro, and doctors desperately tried to treat everyone. No one noticed one doctor silently slip into the elevator. 

The upper floors were almost empty, and the only sound was hospital equipment ticking, buzzing or beeping. A few nurses were on call, they nodded to the doctor as he passed. Pausing for a second, he checked the room number on one of the doors, and then walked in. 

None of the nurses paid much attention, they had many patients to see to and a long night ahead of them. 

Moments passed. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, as Nick and Rachel came walking. Reaching Frank’s room, Nick opened the door, smiling slightly. 

“Ladies first.” 

She couldn’t resist smiling, but as she walked in, her smile froze. 

There was a man standing by Frank’s bed, pointing a gun at him. He was still asleep, looking so innocent and carefree at any other time it would have warmed her heart. 

“Henry, I presume,” Nick said, holding his hands out in a non-threatening matter. 

“I will shoot,” Henry warned, trying to keep his hand steady. He would shoot. He would! 

“He’s done nothing to you!” Rachel shouted angrily, stepping forward. “You want me? Fine. Here I am.” 

“Rachel...” Nick warned. 

“Shut up, Wolfe!” Henry shot back, “Amanda came over for a visit just a few hours ago. Seemed to think she could talk reason to me. You shouldn’t have interfered.” 

“No, we should have let ourselves be killed by some damn Immortal!” 

“I sent you a teacher!” Henry called out desperately. 

“And that makes it alright?!” 

“Shut up! What the hell do you know? You’re Immortal!” 

“Not by choice,” Nick said quietly, “what the hell have you done with Amanda?” 

“Nothing yet. I’m not a monster. If you stay out, she’ll be safe. Rachel...” 

Without hesitating, she walked up to him. Looking him straight in the eye, she saw a flash of regret before the gun came crashing down on her head, and the world went very white, then completely black. 

“Hey!” Nick called out, taking a step forward and catching Rachel as she fell. And suddenly he noticed Frank looking straight at him. The two men exchanged glances, then Frank jumped onto Henry. 

Caught unaware, Henry still managed to wriggle the gun out of Frank’s immediate reach, but Frank locked his arm with his unhurt one. The two hit the floor silently, seconds later a shot went off. 

“Shit!” Nick cursed as the shot hit him, falling backwards. Immediately realising he wouldn’t survive it, he closed his eyes and braced himself. 

Frank watched with horror as Nick died. The man was supposed to be Immortal, but... He gasped in pain as Henry struck out at his wounded arm and lost his grip. Seconds later he looked into a gun barrel. 

“Don’t move,” Henry ordered him, getting up. 

“I’m not going to let you do this,” Frank warned him, hearing fast footsteps approaching. 

“I could kill you,” Henry said, grabbing hold of Rachel, but the gun stayed firmly pointed at Frank. She wasn’t very heavy. 

“You could,” Frank admitted, “The world’s full of killers. What’s one more?” 

For a brief second the two men looked straight at each other, then Henry struck out, kicking Frank hard in the shoulder. Groaning in pain, Frank felt his vision go black for a second or two. When he looked up again, Henry and Rachel was gone. 

“Bloody hell!” he cursed, crawling over to Nick. Feeling for a pulse, he found none. The man was dead. 

“Oh my God!” came a terrified cry as a nurse came running in “What happened here?” 

“Nothing,” Frank told her firmly, “this man fainted. Would you get a glass of water?” 

“I heard-” 

“What?” 

“I thought I heard...” 

“What?” Frank hoped his face was as blank as he wanted it to be. It had to be, because the nurse took one more look, and then retreated. Probably going for reinforcements. And so he sat on the floor and waited, waited for a dead man to be alive again. 

“What a mess,” he thought, praying that Rachel would be safe. He couldn’t have lost her now, he’d barely gotten her back. 

She was supposed to live forever. 

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

_~~~~~~~~  
The rest is silence   
~~~~~~~~_

A small eternity passed, although it was only a few moments. Frank waited, every second feeling like agony. Every second bring Rachel further away from him. 

Suddenly, there was a loud gasp from Nick, as he opened his eyes and lived again. Frank stared in disbelief, one thing was to know Immortality existed, it was something altogether different to see someone die and rise again. 

“Damnit! Nick cursed, getting up, “Did the bastard get away?” 

“He bloody well did, with Rachel!” 

“Great. We better find them.” 

“How are we gonna do that, genius?” Frank asked sarcastically, rubbing his arm. Bloody hell, his arm hurt. 

“I can sense their Presence if they’re close enough.” 

“Any ideas where to start?” 

Nick shrugged. “I’ll find them.” 

“ _You’ll_ find them? Am I supposed to just stay here and wait?” Frank fought an urge to shout. 

“I’m Immortal, you’re mortal. If I’m shot, I get up. If you...” Nick stopped mid-sentence “Oh God... I sound like Amanda. She always pulled the Immortal-mortal crap on me.” 

“We should both go, before the cavalry arrives,” he added after a pause. “If we only know where he was keeping his daughter...” 

“I know,” a voice broke in. 

The two men turned surprised, looking at the young girl who had walked up to them. Thick red hair, with sparkling green eyes, she was beautiful, but quite clearly very ill too. Her skin had an unnatural tone to it, and there was something about her face... 

“I’m Lauren, Henry’s daughter,” she told them, feeling her strength wane. It had been a long walk, and her lounges felt deprived of oxygen. Taking several deep breaths, she ordered her legs to keep standing. They felt weak, but they were listening. 

“You can trade me for Rachel and Amanda,” she ordered, her voice sounding surprisingly strong even to her. “I will take you there.” 

“No,” Nick shook his head, “you can barely stand, I won’t...” 

“I am dying.” She didn’t even wince when saying it. “I will not let anyone die for me. I want to save him. Please let me.” 

She walked up to Frank, shaking her head. “I did not want this. I am so sorry he took your friend. I’m sorry he came to late, but I came as fast as I could. I swear.” 

“I believe you,” Frank replied quietly, all his anger fading. 

“How did you know where we were?” Nick asked. 

“I read my father’s notes. Please... I know I can make him understand.” 

Walking up to Nick, she looked him right in the eye, willing him to understand. 

“Have you ever loved someone so much you wanted to save them from themselves?” 

He looked at her for a long time, exchanging a quick glance with Frank, before giving a reluctant nod. 

“Alright.” 

* * *

The wind fell and rose, and fell again. The black sky slowly turned grey, stars paled and disappeared from view. The biting cold was losing some of its teeth. It promised to be good morning. 

It would be a good morning if he’d be asleep in his bed next to Amanda, Nick thought with a sigh, shivering despite the air being rather warm. He looked over at Lauren, seeing the strain on her face. She could barely stand. Frank was by her side, ready to support her, but she had not fallen so far. 

“It’s the next house,” she said through clenched teeth. 

Nick looked up, seeing the pale blue house she was gesturing towards. As they approached, he felt two Presences slam into his mind at the same time. 

“They’re here,” he told the other two, “I sense them.” 

“We’re coming,” he tried to communicate to Amanda, “We’re coming.” 

* * *

“Where the hell is she?!” Henry exploded, looking around. Lauren was gone. A part of him wanted to panic, but he forced himself to stay somewhat calm. He had the Immortal. 

“Henry...” Amanda began, taking a momentarily break from working on her bonds. She’d been tied to a chair, so had Rachel, who was still unconscious. Henry was pacing the floor, holding onto her sword. She silently cursed herself for being stupid enough to try and take him on alone. Twelve hundred years and surprised by a mortal. She was getting old... Nick would have a field day teasing her. 

God, she hoped he would get the chance to do just that. 

Henry ignored her, thinking. She sighed, just as she felt a new Presence. It could be Nick. It had to be Nick. 

“Aw, my head,” Rachel muttered, her eyelids fluttering. “Where... what...” Her eyes flew open. 

“You alright?” Amanda asked her, worried. 

“My headache’s killing me.” 

The door slammed open with a sudden bang, and Nick walked in. Henry jumped, bringing his sword up at once. Nick seemed not to notice, walking on. A few steps from Henry, he stopped. 

“You!” Henry spat, “You took Lauren! Where is she?” 

“She came on her own, Henry,” Nick replied, “She doesn’t want this.” 

“Don’t speak of her! Just tell me where she is!” Henry replied fiercely, bringing his sword to rest against Nick’s neck. “I know how to kill your kind. I will... for...” 

“For Lauren?” 

“I told you not to speak of her!” Henry snapped, lifting his sword to swing it. Nick jumped back, barely managing to jump away as the sword came at him. “Where is she?!” 

Nick said nothing, simply crossing his arms and waiting. 

“Tell me, damnit! I won’t hurt Amanda, you and her can just walk away.” 

“With a life on our conscience? It’s not worth it.” Seeking eye contact with Amanda, he found himself staring at nothing. Just an empty chair. But he could still feel her Presence, so she had to be near. 

“Lauren deserves to live!” Henry cried out. 

“So Rachel deserves to die?” Nick countered, focusing on Henry again. In the corner of his eye he thought he saw a glimpse of Amanda tiptoeing towards Rachel. 

“She isn’t supposed to be Immortal! I haven’t understood how it happened, but she isn’t supposed to be Immortal!” 

“Does that in some obscure way justify killing her?!” Nick kept the argument going, as Rachel was almost free of her bonds. 

“I WILL NOT LOSE HER!” Henry felt the last of his restraint disappear, seeing Nick in a red haze of anger, pain and sorrow. He charged at him, swinging his sword wildly. 

“NICK!” Amanda cried, freezing in terror. No, no, no, no. He couldn’t die. He was going to live with her for a long, long, long time. He couldn’t die. 

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!” Lauren cried out, coming running from the shadows. Frank saw only a blur, one moment she was beside him, the next she was not. 

Henry didn’t hear her cry, so she ran, ran as fast as she could and prayed it was fast enough. Suddenly she had wings, she flew the last metres and knocked Nick away. 

He should have been far too heavy for her to push over, but he was too focused on Henry’s attacks and unprepared. She felt a sickening pain in the chest as the sword cut through her flesh. 

There was a silence. 

Lauren fell backwards, her legs finally giving in. It hurt to breathe, every breath burned in her chest. She saw her father’s look of shock, as he realised what he had done. She seemed to keep falling even after hitting the floor, and she knew she was about to die. The pain would be over soon. 

She looked at her father again, and tried to speak. She wanted to tell him it was okay, that her mother was waiting for her. She wanted to tell him she loved him. But her mouth was filled with blood, and she couldn’t speak. Looking him into the eyes, she told him all these things without using words. 

He shook his head, the sword falling from his hands. 

“Lauren,” he whispered, terrified. “Don’t leave me.” 

She gasped in pain, took one last look at him.... and died. 

Silence fell again. 

* * *

**Epilogue**

_~~~~~~~~_   
All these days who passed   
I did not know them to be life   
~~~~~~~~ 

Henry heard voices around him, but he couldn’t bring himself to hear what they were saying. He felt frozen in time. The image of Lauren staring up at him, her killer, kept popping up in his mind. 

He’d killed her. 

She was dead. 

His eyes were dry, and he kept staring out in the air. 

He’d killed her. 

“He’s in shock,” Joe said to Nick, shaking his head, “We’ll take care of him.” 

The house was filled with Watchers, cleaning up blood and removing files. There would be no trace of the events that had transpired, only the memories would remain. Nick wondered if twelve hundred years were enough to push away such haunting images of a young girl dying so long before her time. 

“Where did Rachel and Frank head off to?” Joe interrupted Nick’s trail of thought. 

“They’re... recuperating,” Amanda said with a small twinkle in her eyes, hanging up her cell phone. She had been on the phone with Erik, explaining why they’d missed their appointment and asking for one small favour. 

Joe raised an eyebrow at her statement, and Nick sent her a mischievous grin. Recuperating indeed. 

* * *

The room was barely lit. The curtains were closed, just a streak of daylight sneaked past. The bed was made, and empty. The two people there did not feel a need for sleep. 

Frank was kissing her neck hungrily, his fingers making slow circles on her hip. Rachel had her eyes closed, letting all her thoughts be drowned by the hot flashes of desire that pulsed through her. 

She let her fingers run through his hair. It was wet from the shower they’d taken, washing away old pain and the feeling of death. A part of her wondered how long it would last, if it really would lessen the pain of loosing David and Jack and everyone else who thought her dead. Another part of her knew it wouldn’t. 

She ignored the thoughts, pushing herself closer to Frank. Her shoulder came in contact with his wounded one, and he groaned in pain. 

“Sorry,” she muttered. They didn’t speak again, as his lips met hers in a greedy kiss. There was no need for words. She let all thoughts drift from her mind, only feeling. She could almost feel Frank, almost like a Presence... Shivering, she pulled back. 

He looked at her with worry. She gave him a quick, reassuring smile, trying to locate the sense of Presence in her mind. It was gone, almost as if it had never been there. Frank pulled her into a fierce embrace, and she fell to the floor with him. 

She would worry about it in the morning. For one night, she would let herself feel alive. 

And with Frank caressing every part of her body while kissing her senseless, it felt good to be alive. It felt good to be in his arms, to feel his warm skin next to hers. 

It gave her hope that there were life beyond death. 

* * *

“I’ve been killed twice this week,” Nick complained as he and Amanda began walking away from the little pale blue house that looked just like any other house. It would probably be sold to a quite normal family, unbeknownst of the tragedy that had occurred there. 

“Poor baby,” she replied, somewhat mockingly. 

“By the way, how did you manage to free yourself?” 

“Nick...” she gave him a look “where’s your faith in me? I’m hurt. I’m the greatest thief in the world, remember? I never let a simple rope stop me.” 

“Really,” he said dryly. 

“Really.” 

“So how did Rachel become Immortal?” Nick asked, changing the subject. She shrugged her shoulders. 

“Henry was unable to find out,” she answered, “maybe we will never know.” 

“And Frank?” He smiled at her, for the first time in weeks feeling like life wasn’t a tangled mess. She smiled back at him. 

“I think he was born an Immortal,” she suddenly said. He didn’t seem surprised. 

“I could almost sense his Presence when he was near, only it seemed....” 

“Severed,” he finished for her. They walked in silence for a while, a silence neither minded. 

“Can you lose your Immortality?” 

She shrugged her shoulders. “Some die peaceful deaths and don’t have their Immortality triggered. But... I don’t know.” 

He looked at her and smiled. 

“Good to know you don’t know everything at twelve hundred years old.” 

“Just almost.” Her reply made him smile again. It felt so easy to smile at her. 

“I invited them to stay at The Sanctuary for as long as they wanted,” she added, referring to the bar she and Nick owned “It’s Holy Ground. They would be safe.” 

He nodded. They walked in silence for a while, watching the river move lazily towards the sea. 

“You think it can work out for them? An Immortal and a mortal?” Amanda asked after a while, gesturing out in the air. 

“Who knows? If they love each other...” he trailed off, feeling her hand gently take hold of his. 

“You think it can work out for two Immortals?” Her voice was steady, her face even, but her eyes seemed to shine at him. 

Smiling, he pulled her into an embrace and just held her. He felt her smile against his neck, and he found himself wondering what twelve hundred years would be like with her. Never boring, that was for sure. Gently, he kissed her... A warm, tender kiss that curled her toes. A mild wind caressed their skin as they stood there, whisking away the last touch of winter. 

It reminded him that nothing could last forever. One day, he would leave her. Or she would leave him. 

Just as long as it wasn’t today. 

“Let’s go home,” he whispered. 

**Sydney**

The waves crashed against the beach and Erik’s bare legs as he walked towards the picnic he’d spotted on the beach. He could hear laughing, a child laughing. Playing with his father and stepmother, he seemed so innocent. Just like any other kid, hadn’t it been for the fact that his mother had died... and risen again. 

Erik smiled as he walked past, looking the kid straight in the eyes. And he knew. Amanda had been right, he would have to call her later and tell her so. Poor kid. Cursed and gifted beyond imagination. 

David Goldstein was a pre-Immortal. 

* * *

© 2001   
Please send comments to the author! 

* * *  
  
---|---


End file.
